In spring, writing is late

I should be glad that those traveling from south to north are destined to go through two springs, but I don’t know which spring belongs to me. Maybe they are all gifts from heaven..   Spring is here, it must be here, even if I haven’t noticed it yet.     Spring in northeast China always comes late. It’s not hard to imagine. After the Spring Festival, I started from my hometown of Qinba and came to the northeast. Qinling is recognized as the dividing line between the north and the south of our country. I have traveled half of my motherland for two days by train.. When I left, the wheat seedlings in my hometown turned green. I remember that the previous year was also the year after the Spring Festival, and the peach blossoms in my hometown opened.. When I left this year, I carefully checked that peach blossom was really playing hide-and-seek with me.. Without the peach blossom farewell, it seems that parting is a bit lost.     But I still feel, clearly feel, I started with spring.     The morning when the train slowed down and stopped at the terminal, I saw from the window early that it was snowing outside. I sent a message to friends in my hometown: I have arrived safely in Changchun, where snow is falling. I just want to surprise them, it seems that this will get more people’s attention. Every life needs the nihility of other people’s care, even if many times it is like Plato’s love, it is comfortable to think about and think about it..     From the moment I got off the bus, I started looking for spring belonging to the northeast. I looked at the falling snowflakes and smiled stupidly as if they were dandelions I brought from my hometown. I looked at the silent sky and gazed at it for a long time, as if it were my distant and empty mood. I watched the snow melt slowly. The melted water moistened the road and my heart.     I should be glad that those traveling from south to north are destined to go through two springs, but I don’t know which spring belongs to me. Maybe they are all gifts from heaven to me..     At last, the snow is almost gone, at least there is no white, and the sun is like a kind old man. When I wake up every morning, I have covered the wall opposite the window, giving me the illusion that spring has come. The sunshine in northeast China is too early. It has something to do with longitude. I miss it earlier.. Like when I was a child, every morning when I woke up, my father and mother had already warmed the house and saw them, I saw the sun.     Together with the sun, the sky is high and empty, blue and blue. Just like Ling Shijiang wrote about the sky in Tibet, you know how blue it is in the northeast, and no one really knows. At least I still don’t know, which is why I have been afraid to describe the sky above my head..     Let the sun come early, let the sky be higher and bluer, at least in this way, I will think spring has really come.